Touched by the Gods
by Duesal10
Summary: The Sage of Six Paths wasn't always a god among men. Once he was just a wanderer, a man desperate for peace in a world that burned in the flames of war. However, he wasn't just given the Rinnegan. The gods provided the foundation, but he had to earn his rings of power, one by one. He had to prove his inner strength in a series of harrowing, life-threatening trials. FLASH-FIC
1. Prologue

**Author's Note****: **Hi! This was actually supposed to be a part of my other story, _The Clan Wars_, but it ended up not working out in the overall sequence. I was planning to write about the sage's life anyway... Well, thanks for clicking! Enjoy!

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Prologue

The man had been a wandering priest of their order before he was summoned. For years, the gods had heard his pleas for salvation from the wars, but they did nothing. Why would they? After all, one worthless human was no better than the rest of them, all of whom were constantly praying for things they did not earn without working to better themselves. But they watched him nonetheless.

The man began to reveal himself as a creature of nobility, one out of place in the dirt in which it dwelt. He associated with human trash on a frequent basis: thieves, drunkards, rapists, kidnappers, and even the occasional murderer. Despite his near constant interaction with these types of men, not once were his values and beliefs ever shaken. Not once did that righteous rage that burned within him whenever he saw their victims ever dim. And on nearly every such encounter, he proved himself to be a warrior of great talent and skill. He never failed to... _correct_ the problems set before him. All in the name of protecting the innocents of course, but the gods found him interesting nonetheless.

Here was a mortal who would not merely wait for them to answer his pleas. Here was a man of action, a man who did what needed to be done. Here was a man of conviction who was steadfast in his beliefs and in his defense of the innocent. Here was a man who was _worthy_. And so, the gods answered his calls.

It was a quiet night. The priest was resting in a village inn, doing his best to care for the sick and injured. This particular dwelling had close to a dozen orphans, all of whom had lost their parents to the wars. That was better than most other villages though. _Those_ towns had more orphans than they did adults: towns doomed to starvation and disease. Whenever the priest happened upon such a town, he would always do his best to help: trying to teach the children there to better take care of themselves.

Then, he thought he saw something white and see-through just after his routine prayer (honestly, why did it even matter anymore), but he just ignored it. It was probably one of the orphans playing at being a ghost again.

The divine messenger frowned when the man didn't even turn around. If the mortal couldn't sense his importance, then he obviously didn't deserve the message. He left without a word.

* * *

Misfortune followed the man like a plague after that. The gods had to test him _somehow_, and a few more pieces of mortal trash were more than enough to get the job done. The priest practically wallowed in sickness and death, yet it never touched him. The first few towns just seemed like a coincidence, with someone catching the plague soon after he arrived. But the blame could never really rest with him alone, as others frequented those towns as well.

Those places never survived the month, but he always stayed to bury the people. Not out of any real sense of duty, but because it just didn't seem right to slight their souls like that. No matter how these people had acted in life, virtuous or otherwise, they deserved a proper burial. So he stayed for a week or more after their passing to preform their last rites, and then he moved on.

However, the man quickly noticed his connection to the utter devastation around him one summer when he entered the small mountain village known as Mukawa. It was a relatively isolated dwelling, tucked into the side of a looming forested mountain. The residents were friendly enough to the priest, smiling and waving as he passed them by, usually hard at work hacking into terraced fields to plant their rice. They lived a simple, quiet life.

That night, the priest was welcomed into the village headman's own home, on the grounds that he preform the standard exorcism, which every _real_ priest knew, on his house. It was at dinner that night that he learned himself to be the first visitor in nearly six years. As such, it was only fair that the town celebrate with a festival in the hopes that he had brought in good luck from the outside world. How wrong they were.

The next morning, the headman received the news that a young man of twenty-five by the name of Kenichi had collapsed in the fields last night. When the others brought him home, his body was ravaged with a fever throughout the night before he finally passed earlier that morning. He left behind a wife and a three-year-old daughter, all alone.

The strange thing was that the man had been healthy and strong. The young were never the first to catch an illness, it was always the elderly or the children and infants who succumbed to the plagues first. Even more troubling was the fact that the resident healer had never seen such a disease before. That only meant one thing: that _priest_ had put all of their lives at risk by intruding in their home! He was the first outsider in their village in over six years, and little under a _day_ since his arrival a man had already perished. This was no coincidence.

With this new, hastily-put-together conclusion in mind, the headman rounded up all the men of the village in a panic. That priest would pay for the disease he had brought! He needed to be burned alive! That was the only sure way to keep the plague from spreading. One way or another, there would be a celebration involving that man. It mattered not if the event actually celebrated his demise.

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**Author's Note****: **Yes, I know it wasn't much at all. I promise that the next chapter will actually be relevant to the Sage's journey. This was just the phase of him entering the "Hero's Journey".


	2. A Sleeping Beast

**Author's Note****: **And the village strikes!...Or do they?

Touched by the Gods

Chapter 1: A Sleeping Beast

Satoshi leaned back against the wall of his room, simply enjoying the harmony of the sounds around him, his long, spiky brown hair playing across his face. He had been traveling for quite a while—his last stop having been over two months ago—and he was glad for the sanctuary this place offered. This was a nice enough village, he decided. Surrounded by a forest and backed up against the steep slope of a mountain, the village was completely isolated.

But that was a boon, a blessing.

This little piece of civilization was completely untouched by the horrors of the world at large.

No wars burned here, no plagues ravaged families. No, this place did not carry the horrors of the rest of the world. They did not bear the burdens of petty kings and arrogant nobles as most peasants were forced to. The very concept of a lord was foreign to them. It had always just been them and the land, living in harmony. They were a people that never took more than they needed.

In fact, when Satoshi explained to them the concept of a lord, they all appeared disgusted without exception. What kind of an honorable man claimed to own another? Such a thing went against every natural law! The wanderer couldn't help but smile at their reaction. He liked these people...

It was almost like a different world altogether... a world that thrummed with the power of life itself...

* * *

oOoOoOoOo

_Thud._ Satoshi's pale grey eyes snapped open at the sound. A quick glance at the length of the windowsill's shadow told him that it was several hours before sunset. He tensed involuntarily. Everyone was out in the fields during the daytime, even the women and children. The evening meal was always prepared in advance and heated soon after coming home. But that sound... was it a thief?

He _hated_ thieves... Some were innocent enough, only stealing so that they could survive, but others... The others, merciless scum, killing without regard and taking whatever they pleased...

Silently, the lean wanderer sat up from his obi and leaned into a fighter's stance. He had long since learned how to defend himself in his years of travel. Slowly inching forward, Satoshi opened the door and crept into the hallway of the headman's house.

He slid himself down the length of the hall, eyes constantly darting to and fro for any threat. The hall had a relatively smooth wooden floor, all of which had been polished till it shone a deep brown color. Unfortunately for Satoshi, this made it very hard to move stealthily...

_Squeak._

_Squeak._

_Squeak._

"..." He paused, mentally scolding himself in preparation for a soundless step.

"..."

_Squeak._

_'DAMN IT!' _he roared in his head. _'Damn these squeaky-clean floors! Why does a farmer even have floors this clean?! I thought they didn't believe in nobility!'_

Indeed, the head-man's home was practically a mansion. Polished hardwood floors, fine rice-paper walls, and even a gate. It would seem to any outsider that this _headman_ was actually an upperclassman, and yet he worked in the fields every day, right alongside his fellow villagers. The man confused Satoshi.

All the lords _he _had seen were pompous and arrogant. They regarded their people like property, and somehow they got away with it. Yet this man, this leader, although looked up to in reverence by his fellow villagers, never once looked down anyone. They were equal. They were one...

_Crash!_

Satoshi jumped at the noise. It was right behind him! How—?

_**Whack!**_

The grey-eyed brunette collapsed, unconscious, as the hard wooden post slammed into the side of his still-turning head. The unforgiving splinters buried themselves deep into his face, painfully tearing at his skin. A wild-looking, squat, muscular man stood over him solemnly.

His face held deep-set, almost black eyes. Scars seemed a part of him, marking his cheeks, cutting through his lips, everything really. His entire body was covered in these horrific scars, as though all the swordsmen in the world had at one point used him to test their blades. The scarred man stepped towards Satoshi's prone form without hesitation, his bushy black hair rippling with his slightest movement.

And he stood there over the wanderer, the splintery wooden post still grasped tightly in his hand.

The post raised up in the air...

_A world without war..._

and fell mercilessly...

_is an impossible dream..._

_**Cra-a-ack!**_

Without warning, Satoshi's hand obliterated the incoming weapon with a single blow, splintering the entire length right up to the makeshift hilt. To say that the intruder was shocked would be an understatement.

On the floor, Satoshi glared up at his assailant with glowing purple eyes that hummed with power, with vengeance. This man truly had no idea what he had just gotten himself into...


	3. Hangover

**Author's Note****:** _Here comes the main heroine! As of now, this story is a flash-fic. For those of you that don't know what that means, it's basically a long story with incredibly short chapters._

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Touched by the Gods

Chapter 2: Hangover

The sunlight streamed through the leafy forest roof in thin rays, passing through copious amounts of bright green leaves before eventually landing on the sleeping form of a man. His long, spiky hair covered his eyes as he laid on his back, completely oblivious to the world.

Normally, such a sight wouldn't be unusual seeing as traveling between villages took on average about three days at the very least, especially in these mountainous regions. As such, travelers were a common sight, resting a little ways off the roadside in some patch of sunlight.

But this man was different...

This man lying a few dozen yards away from the road was bathed in crimson lifeblood, none of which was his own. This man reeked of death and fiery destruction to the point that he smelled like a demon, almost as though he had been forged in hellfire...

Miko crouched down and leaned closer to this strange man before her, ignoring that voice inside her head that was telling her to run as fast and far away as possible. Her chocolate-brown eyes glimmered with curiosity. She inched closer, her red/white priestess robes and long black hair shifting in the slight breeze that had come out of nowhere.

She then froze as the man groaned in his sleep and shifted off his back and onto the right side of his body, his face rolling to a stop inches in front of hers. Miko blushed as she got a better look at him. High cheekbones with slanted eyes and a strong chin certainly worked in his favor, that is, if he didn't smell like the dead.

The dark-haired priestess gagged at the nauseating scent of the gore that cloaked the man and soaked deep into his skin. She stumbled back clutching her nose in revulsion as she desperately tried to expel the air from her lungs. Unfortunately for her, she accidentally stepped on a twig, snapping it with a resounding crack.

Bloodshot grey eyes snapped open, bleary at first, but then they fixed a frozen Miko in a crazed stare, full of bloodlust.

~o0oOo0o~

Satoshi woke up to the sound of a twig snapping, completely disoriented. He hissed as the sunlight battered against his sensitive pupils, and instinctively raised his arms in defense. When his throbbing eyes finally stopped burning like a vampire in the sun, he opened them to find some random woman standing over him, only a foot away.

His storm-grey eyes snapped up to her face with a frightening intensity, and she yelped fearfully. Satoshi frowned. He didn't know why this lady, this incredibly _beautiful_ lady, was standing so close to him, but he also had no idea where he was. He felt as out of his element here as a fish out of water. There was just something _a__bout_ this place...

He then opened his mouth and cleared his throat to ask the woman—or rather, priestess, as he noticed by her garments—where he was, but for some reason his slightest movement seemed to terrify her.

"DEMON!" she shrieked like someone had just tried to cop a feel. She would have done better as a town-announcer than a priestess, with a voice as painfully loud as hers.

"W-what?!" Satoshi stuttered, wincing at her volume. It was almost as if he was in the middle of a hangover! Everything was too bright, too loud, too _real_. Couldn't she just _stop screaming?!_

The loud yet pretty woman completely brushed off his attempts to calm her down, yelling all the while, and when he tried to reach out to her in an admittedly stupid attempt to calm her down, she panicked and kicked him as hard as she could...

_Right_ between his legs...

As the unfortunate man went cross-eyed and his voice rose to an embarrassingly high pitch, he was put out of his misery by one of that damnable woman's tiny flailing fists, a child's hand really. That little priestess, this incredibly _small _and _weak-looking_ woman, had just knocked him out with a mere two blows.

~o0oOo0o~

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**Author's Note****: **_Men of the world, let's just take a moment of silence in face of the horror we've just witnessed._

_Also, a big warm welcome to the two who've beta'ed this chapter. _Infamous Storm_, and _Darkcush_. They were a huge part of this remarkably short chapter._


	4. NOT A CHAPTER

**Author's Note****: **

Due to the latest manga chapter in which the origins of the Sage of Six Paths were finally explained, the entire premise for this story has been rendered AU. Thus, I am making a different version to fit Canon. But fear not! Darkcush has volunteered to take up Touched by the Gods while I work on the Canon-approved sage story. He was kind enough to take up this story, so please be nice. Not that you guys aren't polite anyway, but... You know what I mean.

Later!

Duesal10


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